


Cosmic Letters

by wwwjudedotcom



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wwwjudedotcom/pseuds/wwwjudedotcom
Summary: Michael starts writing Alex letters while he's deployed.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	Cosmic Letters

**Author's Note:**

> Formatting this was rough, but I hope it works. The strikethrough text is what each of them have crossed out in their letters. Feedback is always appreciated so please let me know if there's a better way to format this! Thanks!

_ Alex, I know I said I wouldn’t write. But I think we both knew that was a lie. I hope you are staying safe from all of your wars.  _

_ -Michael _

Michael couldn’t bring himself to write more than a line, at least until he got a response, if he got one at all. 

_ Guerin, I always knew you were a liar. I’m glad I was right. I think I am safer here than I was there.  _ _~~At least my father thinks I’m a Manes man now. I don’t know why I care about what he thinks of me.~~ _ _ I am just sorry I had to leave  _ _~~you~~. _ _ Your letter meant a lot. Thank you.  _

_ Be safe, _

_ Alex. _

Alex didn’t know why Michael had written, but it was the first time he had a hint of a smile in days. So he wrote back, allowing himself to hope for an answer. 

_ I am sorry too, but glad you are safe. People here miss you.  _ _~~I might be one of them~~. _ _ Liz is in Denver now, I think. Max is a cop. Iz met someone, but she won’t introduce them to anyone yet. Maria owns the Wild Pony, so I get drunk for free now (until I get kicked out). We are all waiting for you to come back. Please come back.  _

Michael didn’t sign this one. He knew Alex knew it was him, he always did. He also couldn’t put his name on something that mushy: “Please come back.” He meant it, sure, but he didn’t have to sound like he was begging. He knew being halfway around the world was better for Alex anyways. But it sure as hell wasn’t better for him. 

_ Michael, I will come back, I promise. I’m almost done with my wars. I’m so close. I have six more months here. I might transfer home, to Roswell, after. I keep meaning to send Maria letters, but I have been preoccupied. Tell her I’m sorry, and that I miss her too. (On second thought, maybe don’t. I’ll take care of it myself). I miss  _ ~~_ you _ ~~ _ people too. I got drunk before I started this. Maybe to calm my nerves, but probably because  _ ~~_ I love you _ ~~ _ I can’t handle missing home when home is so full of things that aren’t home. You are home, always have been. I’m sorry I left. But I couldn’t stay. I’m sorry. I will be home soon. _

_ Be there soon,  _

_ Alex _

He had gotten a little too drunk before writing a response, and he was still drunk when he sent it out. His friend managed to take a picture, probably to blackmail him later, but when he saw it, he nearly threw up. He practically confessed his love for Michael. And Michael would read it in 10-12 business days. And he said he would come home. He didn’t even know where home was. 

_ Wow, Manes. I thought getting drunk and writing letters was my thing. I’m sober this time. Don’t think it means anything, I’ll send drunk letters later. I was planning on saying this when you got back but figured you might be embarrassed by your previous letter (if you remember, you called me home.) So I’ll write it now, and say it later: I love you. I love you, Alex Manes. I always have, and probably always will. So come home safe, so I can tell you in person. _

_ Love, Michael _

Michael’s heart leapt out of his chest at the thought that he was still Alex’s home, that Alex had given Michael a home, and that even after all this time Michael had managed to give him one too. He had rewritten his letter seven times. Each time writing “I love you” and each time crossing it out. Until the last. Until he knew the longer he waited, the more it would kill him. So he took a few shots after his last draft, giving him enough courage to send it.

_ Michael Guerin,  _

_ I love you too.  _

_ Love,  _

_ Alex Manes _

He wrote it like a love poem. And maybe it was. He held Michael’s letter close to his chest, waiting for the paper to disintegrate underneath his fingers. It didn’t. It stayed intact for three more weeks. It blew apart, probably, somewhere in the desert, along with his leg. He was coming home sooner than he thought.


End file.
